


The Liar & The Hawke

by Crystal_Grace9



Series: Stories from the World of Thedas [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions, Mentioned Bethany Hawke, Old Friends Falling Inlove, Snarky Hawke, Varric inlove, Warden Bethany Hawke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8218546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystal_Grace9/pseuds/Crystal_Grace9
Summary: After the events of the Exalted Council(Trespasser DLC) Varric is back at his new job as the Viscount of Kirkwall. Being bored out of his mind it's not surprising when a certain Champion's return puts the springs back in his steps. But what no one know is that Varric has been lying to everyone all these years, including himself.What will happen now that Bianca the Dwarf is out of the picture?





	1. The Viscount of Kirkwall

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow fans and readers!  
> This is actually the first fan fiction I've managed to write and publish so I really hope you will all like it. Specially if you're a fan of Hawke/Varric romances. Also if you find the language a bit dodgy anywhere it's because English isn't my mother tongue. Working my hardest at keeping a good reading quality and grammar.
> 
> For this story I'm using my own headcanon Amelia Hawke, dual weilding rouge and liberator of Kirkwall's mages(suck it Meredith) 
> 
> Also I'm thinking of switching perspective between Hawke and Varric every or every other new chapter. Most of the characters backstories, trivia, qoutes, and inspiration is taken from the Dragon Age wiki or from in game content.
> 
> More chapters are on the horizon. 
> 
> / Crystal_Grace9

”Viscount Tethras, are you paying attention?”

_Not at all, In fact if I have to listen to your voice a minute longer I swear I..._

Varric sat heavy in his chair with a high back behind his desk in the Viscount's office, resting his chin in his palm, he was miles away.

It had been six  months since the events of the Exalted council in Orlais and Varric was swamped with work. Most of the reconstructions of Kirkwall was under way. Things were looking up. He probably would have enjoyed his new position more had it not been for the senechal.

The man was an insufferable tool, cynical, narrow minded and to Varric’s greatest anguish, the man knew his stuff. ”Master Tethras…?” the man glared at him from were he stood with an expression of underlying annoyance, holding a tight grip of his clipboard. Making him look almost constipated. Varric stretched out in his seat with an exaggerated yawn, almost managing to cover up a chuckle.

"Well Bran, _buddy_ , I think we should call it a night"

 

"But we haven’t gone over the guard’s budget-”

 

”Which is something that should be brought up in the precense of Guard- Captain Aveline…don't you think? I’ll see you tomorrow…” He slid out of his seat and headed for the door.

 

* * *

 

He had kept his room at The Hanged Man, the Viscount's keep made him feel uncomfortable. Sure he was technically a noble. A dwarven noble. But just like any human nobles, you were expected to live in keeps and castles. The title had always been more something he could use when doing business, not something he identified with. He was Varric Tethras: Rouge, storyteller, occasional unwanted tag along that just happend to have become a man with a flashy title. He sighed. By the end of the day, at  _The Hanged Man_  at least you had some privacy. A few passersby greeted him as he descended the stairs, recognizing them as former Ferelden refugees.

The life's of the people in Lowtown had improved remarkably since Varric had been made Viscount, it was still a rat's nest, but a more homely rat's nest. The streets where calmer at night, more  people where working. That mostly involved them cleaning up the messes along the shores after the fade rifts, but the pay was fair thanks to a few deals he’d been able to make with the harbor masters.

  

"Ale and tonight's mystery stew, I'll have it in my room - Thanks!" he said after finally reaching the tavern  and dropping a few silvers on the counter. Taking his time to greet Coriff, the bartender, and getting the latest scoop. Usually it was just bullshit talk, but sometimes it would prove itself useful.

 

After the hearty supper which main ingridient consisted of...chicken...or pork...pigeon?  he pulled of his tunic and crawled into bed. His head was heavy from the  events of the day, mostly arguing with Bran about budget cuts and threats of overthrowing him if he didn't follow the correct procedures.  

Propped up with pillows he pinned his reading glasses behind his ears. He had been in need of began wearing a pair a few years ago. Thankfully only for reading, his sight when managing Bianca was still as sharp as ever. From a drawer in his nightstand he took out the wad of letters he had been reading every night since he'd gotten the first one. Hawke's letters. From the light of a single candle resting on his nightstand he read her words, about her adventures with the grey warden's, and how badly she missed Kirkwall. A secret part of him wanted her to write how badly she missed him too. After all so much had changed.

 

"One would think you would've gotten bored by all of this comfort and come seen me by now..."

 He could recognize that voice from anywhere.

"Andraste's ass- Hawke!"

 

Hawke looked like Hawke, like Hawke usually looked  after a really rough night in Darktown. Her leather armor had seen better days, all covered in soot while sporting quite a few tears in it.  Her hair had gotten longer, brushing her shoulders, making her look more feminine, but it had tangled and gotten messy from the journey. She looked almost Chasind. Her face got backlit from the light seeping in from the tavern, making her eyes sparkle, a big grin resided on her lips. She was just as beautiful as she'd ever been, leaning against the door frame of his room, crossing her arms with a large duffel bag standing at her feet. She must have come to him directly. Varric's heart skipped a beat.

_She doesn't know yet, but would it even matter if she did?_

 

He had always loved her, her wits, her kindness and courage. He had never thought he would find himself to be _inlove_   with her. But before there had been Bianca, the real, fleshy, dwarf  Bianca who'd given him nothing but grief and making him unable to love anyone else. Bianca that had built him his crossbow, his most precious pocession. The first and only woman he'd truly loved, caging his heart for what he thought would be forever. Until now.  Now she wasn't in the picture. He'd made sure of that. He assumed she was back with her doting husband, he didn't really care. Now there wasn't anything to keep the stone under which he'd buried it all long ago not to hurt himself. All the things he really felt for Hawke. The distance hadn't diminishied it but instead it had thrived, stronger, deeper. Hungry he had devoured every letter, reading them over and over, always longing for the next ones arrival.

 

_But she's Anders' ._

 

"I'm sorry to greet the Viscount in such an unmanly fashion but I've missed him dearly...and I could really use a bath before any loving embraces would be recommended...so...two birds...may I?" she made an exaggerated bow and chuckled before walking inside the room. Laughing, he eagerly leaped out of bed and waved her in to the bathroom, handing her a clean towel before closing the door behind her.

 

_She's back. By the Maker she's back._

 

A thought struck him. She probably hadn't eaten yet.

"Hawke, I'll be right back " he called out to her while putting his tunic back on.

 

A while later he re- entered the room carrying a large wooden tray filled with plates of food: A bowl with the same stew he'd eaten earlier, a plate of fruits, a large piece of goat cheese, a small loaf of bread, and a large pitcher of foaming beer, Hanged Man's finest one. Tonight was a night for celebration, or so he thought anyway. As he glared over to the bedroom he found Hawke stretched out on his bed only wrapped in the towel, sleeping soundly.

A warm feeling welled up in his chest and he caught himself smiling at the sight. Why wouldn't she sleep half naked on his bed, it was only natural. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before, heck, some mornings he'd even woken up with a half naked Hawke's arms wrapped around him. Usually after a long night with the old gang in the tavern. The thought made him break his gaze.

 He placed the tray on the table and covered it with a sheet of parchment. The stew would be spoiled by the morning and thrown away, but the rest would still be edible.

_There's  always something as a "Celebratory Breakfast", right?_ he thought tip-toeing over to the bed as to not wake her up with the loud creaking of the old wooden floor. With gentle hands he moved her enough to pull the covers up from under her and pulling it over her, tucking her in. Just as carefully he managed to sneak over to his side and crawl into bed himself. Keeping his breeches on but removing his tunic. Turning towards her he took the image of her in, making sure that she was really there beside him, brushing a few damp streaks of dark hair out of her face he gently placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

 

"I've missed you, and, I-I'm pretty sure that I love you. I love you, Amelia Hawke, I think I have for a long time"

 

She seemed to be waking up, peering up at him under heavy eyelids, smiling softly back at him, before closing again with a contented heavy sigh.

 

"I love you too, silly man"          

 

 


	2. The Champion of Kirkwall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again, sorry to the ones that said they liked this story that I haven't posted in...well ages.  
> The reason has been mostly health stuff which has made writing and finding inspiration extremly hard. See this Chapter 2 as a peace offering and a promise that more chapters are underway.
> 
> \- Crystal Grace

* * *

 

In the morning Hawke woke up in a bed she'd woken up in hundreds of times in her younger years. After every night patrolling Lowtown, every drunken night out with the old gang at the Hanged Man, every night she seeked refuge from fighting with Gamlen's bitter attitude towards her and the Hawke's. In the beginning when they spent time at the tavern there had been Bethany awkwardly flirting with the stone- walled Fenris, Merrill cross examining Anders about the spirit Justice, for what she waved of as doing research, Varric telling stories that no-one would have ever thought to be real if they hadn't lived through some of them themselves. Isabella always throwing shameless invites right and left. Most of them directed to the awkwardly placed Aveline sitting in the middle of the chaos, quietly sipping on her Sherry.

But this morning she didn't wake up next to her snoring dwarven friend like in the golden days, whose drooling always made the pillows wet. Arching her back and stretching out her aching body, probably covered in more scratches and bruises she could count, and inhaled the scent of the room. The scent of home. Her real home.

"Morning, Champ"

Varric came up to her holding a piece of bread, with a huge slab of goat cheese on it, in one hand. In the other he held a plate with an equally large goat cheese sandwich along with some slices of apples, a few golden colored dates and a bunch of grapes.

"G'morning"

"Hungry?" he sat down beside her on at the side of the bed, handing over the plate to her.

 She shot him a smile while propping herself up in bed with the pillows.

"Oh, and there's tea, mint, perks you up pretty nice, I'll get you a cup" he got up and walked over to his fireplace, picking up the iron kettle hanging over the simmering fire and two clay mugs hanging on a hook next to the fireplace.

"Did you sleep alright? "

"Like a log"

"Well you kind of looked like one when you lied there"

"Varric Tethras, did you watch me sleep?"

"Me, watch you sleep? Do you have any idea how peculiar that sounds...? then again I couldn't help but 'watch' you after you woke me up in the middle of the night by kicking me in the chin." Varric chuckled as he took a bite of the bread and cheese while filling both mugs with piping hot tea.

_Way to go, Hawke._

"Oh"

She felt the warmth raise to her cheeks, and after spending a few awkward seconds in silence staring at the plate of food, she finally picked up a single grape and put it to her lips. The sweet taste was incredible.

"So, Weisshaupt, eh? Did you get to meet **the** Warden?"

"Actually, yes. I think you would really like her. Bethany's very fond of her. And the stories she could tell you. Actually, she reminds me quite a lot of you, y'know, apart from being human and female."

"Not to mention married to the king" he chuckled.

"How is Merrill doing?"

"Daisy is alright. Thankfully, she hasn't started any life threatening experiments lately. You should visit her." he handed her one of the steaming mugs, gently blowing on his own before drinking it, sitting down beside her again.

She wrapped both hands around her mug already picking up a strong scent of warm water and mint. Following Varric's example before savoring it.

"I will, and how's Aveline?" she bit into the goat cheese sandwich and chewed it with some effort. Coriff must be thinning out the flour with sawdust again.

"She ...eh...well you know she and Donnic where expecting?"

Varric's expression quickly got serious.

"Yeah?" her eyes widened.

Aveline had found out she was pregnant right before Hawke left Kirkwall for Skyhold two years ago. Had there been something wrong with the baby? Had it fallen ill?

Varric hadn't mentioned that anything would have been wrong in any of his letters. Neither had she heard anything from Aveline. Only that it had been a boy.

"Varric is everything alri --"

"They decided to name him Chauncey" A cheeky grin began creeking up in the corners of his mouth.

Hawke stared him dead in the eye before she slapped him across the shoulder making him spill some of his tea.

"Hey, watch it!" he swiftly stood up and shook a few drops of tea of his fingers.

"Varric, you're horrible!" she gave him an angry look but he just laughed at her.

Varric had to put away his mug from laughing so hard before bending over and holding his stomach as he gasped for air.

"Hawke... the expression on your face - But c'mon, Chauncey Hendyr? How is that not trying to hard?"

A battle went on inside of her in that moment, desperately needed her not to laugh. It was a battle she couldn't win. Bursting out in wild laughter, making her exhale sounds similar to a Lothering piglet.

_Dammit._

Wrapping her arms around her waist, her ribs hurt from laughing, quickly realizing she was still only in her towel. Swiftly pulling the blanket up to her chin as she turned bright red again.

"Um...Varric... I'm naked..."

"Actually I think you're wearing a towel so you're not technically naked"

"Fine. I'm not na-where's my bag?"

Softly giggling at her sheer embarrassment he slid the bag over the floor to her. After some searching she triumphantly pulled out the last pair of clean leather breeches, undergarments and a simple, deep blue, linen tunic. Rushing out of bed and into the bathroom, with a tight grip around both towel and clothing, slamming the door behind her.

Upon entering she caught a glimpse of another Hawke. Her reflection peered back at her from within in the antique brass mirror hanging above the washbasin. She couldn't help but inspect herself, dropping the towel to the floor.

She envied Varric a little. The past sixteen years, all the years she'd known him, had been kind to him. He had aged very well with only a few streaks of silver in his hair and around his temples. He looked very distinguished, dashing even. He wasn't ones conventional choice for affection, sure, but she had always found herself thinking that it was just what made him so attractive.

The years hadn't changed her much either, for good and bad. She was still the scrawny figure she'd been back when she first arrived to Kirkwall with her family. Her bosom was next to non- existent, compared to her sister's plump figure anyway. A mix between the side effects of wrapping it to wear under her armor and inheriting her father's looks. She cupped them in her hands and squeezed them gently. When was the last time a man had touched her that way. Would there ever be again.

Would he ever want her?

The whole body was covered in various scars and bruises. All of them telling a story;  The jagged one above her left eye that cut through the shapely brow, first time she ever meet a qunari mercenary, The red line running down her upper right side, the time she fought the former Arishok, Two nasty looking dots behind her left ear, the bite of a deep road spider, The funny looking mark on her right buttock that slightly resembled a qunari skull, a misguided fire spell by her sister when they we're only children. To think that the then gap toothed six year old with pigtails was now a well renowned Captain within the Grey Wardens. She smiled shaking her head by the thought.

Bethany had hated joining the wardens. For a long time Hawke had blamed herself for taking her with her to the deep roads that day what seemed like ages ago. Then, a few years after the passing of their dear mother Hawke had gotten a letter. Bethany had met someone within the wardens, Nathaniel Howe, son of a former noble house. And they were happily engaged. They had eloped and gotten married one summer night for fear what the order might say. The're had been warden's married in the past- heck the king and queen of Ferelden where both former warderns of the fifth blight and married to eachother. But that had been extreme exeptions. It was usually a lot of paperwork. It had been just the wedding couple, Hawke and Varric and the chantry lady.

Anders had been, somewhere else.

* * *

 

"So, Hawke, when will you?"

"What?"

Her eyes locked on to the percing emerald eyes framed by ginger locks. Aveline sat in across the table from her, in Merrill's cottage, in the midst of feeding an annoyed Chauncy on her lap some baby carrots. Aveline gently placed a runaway tendril behind her ear with a motherly smile. Motherhood really suited her, it made her seem more relaxed then Hawke had ever seen her. She knew Aveline had planned for a family with Wesley after the blight was over. But obviously that had changed. Then when Donnic appeard into the picture no one could have been happier for Aveline then Hawke. She had even paid for their honeymoon in Orlais.

"Well, I just mean you and Anders have been together for a long time now. I know it's hard with Anders...being on the run..." She shifted around in her seat making Chauncy spit out pieces of carrots through the corner of his mouth. Aveline had never forgiven Anders for what he'd done to the Kirkwall chantry. She sighed heavily and wiped Chauncy's mouth with a hankerchief.

"...But have you never thought of marriage and a family of your own?" Hawke swallowed down hard. Maybe she'd thought about it once a long time ago. Before her brother and mother died and her sister left. Maybe she would again.

"Well...actually I have some news...Anders and I are -"

"I hope you'll like it!" Merrill appeared in the doorway holding a wooden tray with a steaming cake and other baked treats.

"I just recently decided to try my hand at cooking...is the tea hot enough? Oh! Did I forgot to clean out the embers from the oven?...sigh.. I'm rambling again. I made the apple tart just for your homecoming, Hawke."

She put the tray on the table with a  load thud and began cutting up the cake and handing it out in equal pieces. Hawke took a full spoonful of apple tart. A sickly sweet sirupy taste filled her mouth. Her eyes met with Aveline's, she looked if not more disgusted by the sweetness then Hawke felt. Desperatly they emptied their teamugs in a haste and laughter ensued.

"It's...quite the sweet treat, Merrill" Aveline gasped making the elf's ears flush.

"Oh I should have known I used to much honey in it!" slumping her shoulders down but was quickly reassured by Aveline's gentle hand on her arm.

"Just not so much honey next time, OK?" Aveline smiled pouring up more tea for herself.

"So, what were you going to tell us, Hawke? You and Anders...?" Aveline peered at her with an arched eyebrow from behind her mug. Hawke, not meeting her gaze, brushed her off while picking through some crumbled up cake still on her plate.

"Never mind, i-it doesn't really matter"


	3. Hushed Whispers

Hawke lied curled up on the bed of her room. Her eyes was overflowing of mad angry tears and her chest felt so tight, she was gasping for air with every breath.

"Messere Hawke, Master Tethras is here to see you."

"I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANYONE BOHDAN!" she screamed and in a fit of rage threw one of her boots aimed towards the door. 

"Hey, watch it! You wouldn't want to be responsible for killing an astounding member of the merchants guild now would you?" he laughed entering the room.

"Piss off, Tethras." she mumbled from under her pillow.

"Well shit, Hawke...I know things are bad. Andraste's ass, it's as bad as it can get. I'm just... how are you?" 

She felt a part of the bed weigh down  beside her and a warm hand on her back gingerly stroking it and easing the tightness in her lungs. She sighed and turned around to face him.

"I hate him, Varric. I never thought I'd be able to hate him as much as I do right now. He didn't just betray me but he betrayed everyone...all those people." 

"I know...I saw him drowning his sorrows down at the Hanged Man when I was on my way here. He's in a hell of a state, and he'll be on the run for the rest of his life...But enough about him now."

Varric leaned forward and gently wiped a few of the tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. Her heartbeat seemed to slow down but beat harder in her chest. As by an instinct she had cupped his face in her hands and pulled it towards her. His breath was warm and damp with a faint taste of bitter ale and smoked mutton. She breathed him in as a jolt of sheer bliss shot through her from within her chest down her stomach and out through her toes. Her fingers found his hair and she ran through it. It was rough and thick like combed flax straws but yet soft like silk. His arms wrapped around her body and pulled her tighter to him. His fingers wandered over her bosom and neck with great excitement and then she felt him pull away from her and the light within blew out like a candle.

"Varric?" she whispered huskily and opened her eyes. His expression was troubled, almost pained.

"I...can't. You know I can't."  He stood up and moved to sit in the chair next to the fireplace.

"Because you're inlove with your crossbow. You know I'm not an idiot, Varric." she spat out arching her back while supporting herself on her elbows.

He chuckled but his expression didn't change much. Then he heaved a heavy sigh putting his hands together and hanged his head.

"I guess I've never told you the whole story about Bianca...but that's for another time. I can't because I know it's not what you really want right now. You want Anders to not be the reason for the most shitty thing since the Vints ruled the world. Hell, You probably want him to feel as hurt as he made you feel, I don't blame you...But, in spite of it all, beautiful, you know you still love him."

_He is right. He always is, isn't he?_

She nodded and wiped a few runaway tears from her cheek while trying to keep a brave face. He was right but it was more to it then just revenge. She had always kept a hidden spot in her heart for him. She loved him, probably more than she'd loved any of her suitors. Not that it had been many. They had a connection, a sometimes brutal honesty towards each other. They where partners. They where the same. But the fact that Varric had never shown anyone but his crossbow and some arrogant and gullible merchant any prolonged interest had made her eyes and heart wonder into the arms of Darktown's own healer mage. Still keeping that one secret wish hidden away. Still she belonged with Anders now and Anders belonged with her in spite of it all. And Anders needed her.

 

"I know it hurts, love always seems to find a way to kick you in the ass when you're at your happiest. I speak from experience. But you should talk to him. You're the reason he still lives, so frankly you can do what you want. If it was me I'd probably use his sorry ass as target practice for Bianca." Hawke gave up a barely hearable chuckle.

_But Bianca never misses, Varric._

"Weirdly enough I think it can help you both to move on from this, whatever the outcome of it might be. I should let you be alone. Seek me out when you're feeling like talking or just punch some bad guys." his steps echoed on the cool stone floors of the room. Then she must have dozed of because it was already dark out when she woke up when there was another knocking at the door.

"Messere Hawke, Are you awake? Anders the mage is here to see you"

She turned on her stomach and buried her face into the pillow to muffle another scream.

 


	4. Master of Bullshit

Varric sat cooped up on a bar stool next to the bar counter. The day was still young but he had already had to many ales and tankards of mead. Hawke had excused herself and hurried off after getting dressed that morning. And Varric couldn't be sure but hadn't she looked at him differently too. But then again she had of course things to sort out being away from home close to three- four years. Of course that was it. She was probably meeting up with Merrill and Aveline today. Fenris hadn't been seen for some time, spending most of his nights somewhere on the roads hunting Vint magisters and slavers while Isabella ran a lot of the business down at the harbor. Anders, Varric found it odd Hawke hadn't mentioned him much the night before though he was probably laying low in some town over or in the Sundermounts. His heart ached.

_He doesn't deserve you. You're to good for him. I can take care of you. I want to take care of you._

 

He swirled his tankard and took a generous swig.

"Tell me Corff, my dear man, Have you ever been in love?" the barkeep polished one of the copper pitchers and seemed to be thinking then he suddenly nodded and gave up an affirmative grunt.

"Was it happy?"

" _*Grunt*_ Ex-wife"

"Well...at least you took a shot."

"Let me guess, you caught her tapping someone else's home brew?! eh-he-he" a burley voice cut through the conversation. The voice belonged to another dwarf, with a red hair and froth from his drink caught in his braided beard,  standing a few steps away on the opposite wall from Varric. 

"Um...actually she...she caught me in the larder with two of the wenches..." Corff shifted his weight back and forth looking uncomfortable for admitting it.

"It happens to the best of us... not me of course, I'd be killed on the spot by mine...worse then the darkspawn that one"

"Well..." Varric cleared his throat, downing the last of the leftover foam from the mead in his mug and slid of the chair, throwing a gold on the counter. 

"See ya later, Corff " he waved while staggering out the door as the red haired dwarf' laughter echoed behind him.

 

* * *

 

"Oh Maker, you have to be joking...you're drunk... **THE VISCOUNT IS DRUNK** " Bran pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a heavy sigh.

"I am? Maker, that sewer water is stronger then I thought" Varric sat slumped down in his seat  with his arms hanging loose over the sides smiling cheeky at him.

"How could you possibly think you'd be in a state to work- It's not even noon yet for Maker's sake!"

"I would have you know I happen to do my best work while particularly intoxicated" he emphasised the last word with a hiccup.

"This isn't you dealing with smutty literature and lying your way through another of your exaggerated stories, Tethras..."He straightened his waist jacket and ran a hand over his sleek hairstyle"Serrah"

"I thought that's why they voted for me." Varric chuckled and started fiddling with a duck feather pen between his fingers. "But seriously, Bran, I have an idea for and I need you to take notes"

"Does this happen to involve the return of the Champion?"

 

_Man, nothing gets_ _passed this guy does it?_

 

He nodded. "Yes, it is. I'm thinking of having a, what was that funny word Vivienne used that time?... a soirée tonight. Getting some of the old gang together again."

The man expelled another breathless sigh, if not more disheartened then the last one. "Brilliant"

Varric got out a wad of ready to use letters of invitations and scribbled down on several of them;

 

 

 

 

> ~~Dear Sir or Madame,~~
> 
> ~~You are hereby invited by the Viscount to the finest establishment Kirkwall has to offer.~~
> 
> ~~You will be enjoying good food, good spirits and splendor times.~~
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Sincerely, Viscount Varric Tethras of Kirkwall~~
> 
> **Hawke's back in town and I'm throwing a shindig down at the Hanged Man at eight tonight, food and good times included, mischievous endeavours encouraged - Varric**
> 
>  

"It's a bit in the last minute but I know you're always up for a challenge _*hic*_ send out these messages to the these addresses before dinner time." He stretched out and yawned while handing over the messages to Bran.

"Of course, Serrah"

"Well that'll be all for today, if anything happens I'll be at the Hanged Man all afternoon working on my book and tending to my party." He got up and waggered over to Bran patting his shoulder before staggering of whistling away to the tune of _Nightingale's Eyes._

 

_I know I can bring you happiness._

* * *

The hours hurried away. A few new chapters had been added to his newest project and he had made arrangements for refreshments to be served for tonight's events. He'd even slipped a few extra golds to Corff to only use the best of his resources. Downstairs sent a perfume of spiced antivan wines, whiskey, fresh ale, meats, fish and other rare and mouth watering delicacies. Varric had bathed and even made the effort by splashing some cologne on himself and dressed himself in the fancy new tunic, tailored for an summer banquet in the Emerald graves that fell through months earlier after the host had gotten sick, scarlet linen with hand sewn brocade with the finest gold thread. And as the cherry on the cake he undid the top eight hooks of it, exposing his strawberry tuft. 

_Why quit a winning concept_

Gingerly brushing his finger over it and straightening his clothes in front of the mirror. For some reason he felt nervous. It was a dinner with friends, sure a little more celebratory and planned for then those nights they dragged in mud and sat covered with soot and blood and gore while toasting for succeeding to keep everybody alive after another mad venture with slavers, evil apostates, undead, dragons and what nots. Everything weirder and darker then the other.

What did he think was going to happen. Did he secretly hope that Hawke would fall for his chest hair and throw herself at his feet begging to be his forever and ever. It started to sound like that smutty literature about Aveline he and Lavellan caught Cassandra reading back at Skyhold. He caught himself smiling at the memory. But after all, It had been a book by him, so he probably was hoping. But that wasn't like Hawke at all, nor did he want her like that. Hawke was perfect in everyway being Hawke. Lover of sappy romantics or not.

He knew she had wanted him that night years ago. He had felt her secret glances long before and knew it had been more than just a momentary need.  He had almost lost himself completely in her embrace. But he hadn't been ready then. It hadn't been right and even if it happened he hadn't wanted it to begin like that. They both deserved better then that time.The feeling had surprised him, overpowered him, drowned him in the scent of her, the softness and eager wanting from her hands, her fingers, her lips. A pleasant shiver traveled down his spine as he left out a sigh loosing balance and supporting himself on the wash bin locking eyes with his own reflection. The dwarf staring back at him with the reddish locks hanging down like a curtain over his eyes while draping his face and strong, stubbled jaw, looked miserable. He knew he was handsome even by human standards. Compliments had been made from both free spirited and suggestive wenches in taverns during his travels and the girls working at the Blooming Rose, sure all those girls was after was his coin purse but he'd like to think there was some truth to the things they said. Bianca even used to call him her dashing hero. He shook his head.

When had he lost his ability to hide his feelings, he was Kirkwall's own _M_ _aster of bullshit_ after all. No one in town let him in on their Wicked Grace game nights anymore for fear of public humiliation and sudden lack of wardrobe. Not that he'd ever purposely done so, a part for a few very special exceptions, to humor himself. He was just that good. Of course some pointers from Josephine had helped to up his game but it was mostly his own doing that put people in turmoil.

Maybe the reason he felt so tense was the fact he knew it was to late for him and Hawke. Of course it was. Hawke had only been with the man for nearly a decade. And Anders was really a good man, deep down, buried under all that moodiness and Justice crap. And he liked cats. No one that liked cats could be truly evil, right. Varric had always been kind of neutral himself when it came to animals, mostly having to do with the lack of cats in Orzammar so when his parents had moved to the surface they had never seen the interest in having any animals that wasn't used as food resource or daily labor.

But he could see himself getting one for the right reasons, imagining him and Hawke laughing as they watched an old tabby playing with a string in their home in front of a warm fire. Another loud sigh. Come to think of it, Hawke hadn't mentioned Anders much at all in her last few letters, sure she rarely mentioned him at all for fear of Varric's letters getting in the hands of prying eyes even with Varric's constant reassurance. Maybe there still was a chance?

 

_I have to take a shot. At least then I'll know. Tonight._


	5. A Lady Prepares

The sun had started its walk across the overclouded sky and hung low over the horizon when she finally made her way from Merrill's home. A flushed messenger boy had delivered Varric's invitations before collapsing on one of the chairs, nearly scaring the feathers of Merrill's new pet raven, Tuck, and forced Hawke on her way while Merrill anxiously promised to make her best to arrive at the gathering in time while fanning the young man's face with a folded washcloth.

A cool afternoon breeze was sweeping in from the sea, the feel of it made her skin tingle, a comfortable, familiar feeling that made her smile as she neared the steps to Hightown. She wanted to change into something pretty and unpractical, having worn almost nothing but her armor for the last couple of years. Wondering if she still had the box of cosmetics laying around somewhere at the manor. It had been a gift from Bodahn and Sandal for her birthday as well a parting gift before they began their travels up north. She had been touched of the expensive gift even though the thought of them finding her in need of makeup made her feel old.

Ascending the stairs she was surprised by the sight of Gamlen and Charade walking arm in arm, probably on their way home to Gamlen's. She smiled and gave them a nod as they passed each other on the steps.  Charade had been good for the old coot. She had paid for his house to be repaired and kept him warm and fed. She had lifted his spirits making him only half of the insufferable tool Hawke remembered from her time living under his roof.

* * *

 

Turning around she eyed herself in the mirror. After rummaging through her wardrobe a couple of times, she had dressed herself in a few of the old exotic garments Isabela had sent her from her travels around Thedas. A pair of black, flowy, trousers from Par Vollen, a tight fitted, charcoal colored, leather corset over a moss green sleeveless blouse and her trusty daggers hidden away in her tall leather boots. Her eyes was lined with a coal pen from the box she'd finally found lying under her bed after a vigorous search and her ears was decorated with two large dangling gold earrings. She tried to decide what to do with her hair, switching between putting it up in a bun or letting it down.

_I wonder how Varric would prefer it?_

The thought was stressing her out. She had always hoped, deep down, he'd let her in and give her a chance.  She'd be lying if she didn't admit that to herself. That little aching spark that was still hidden away there behind all the hurt she had been through.  That they'd lived through together as friends. As partners. But his heart was always going to belong to Bianca the dwarf. Parts of her knew that but her heart just didn't listen. She also knew she would be lying if she didn't admit to being a little jealous of Aveline and Donnic. Even how silly their son's name might be. It was what she wanted.

_But heroes don't always get a happy ending, right?_

 

Then she caught her reflection with her arms up in the air fidgeting with the bushy jet black mop of hair.  It dawned on her how silly she felt getting ready for a party and fretting over men. Not nine months ago had she been battling the last few crazed grey wardens along side _the_ grey warden and her sister at Weisshaupt with blood and mud smeared all- over her face. 

_Maybe it works for the Orlesians but this isn't me._

She shook her head laughing and rolled her eyes at herself before deciding to just pin the hair up in a messy bun making several loose tendrils dangle around her face. Dapping on a little of the red lipcolor and sweeping a shaal in an even darker shade of green around her shoulders. She smiled contently at her reflection and headed of towards the tavern.

_His heart might never be mine but it can't hurt a girl from trying. I used to be a thief after all._

 

 


	6. Among Friends

"Andraste's underpants- Aveline your hair!" Hawke called as several   heads turned towards the door.

A blushing Aveline, as red as her hair, approached the table  while trying to keep face and stared down anyone that she caught giving her a weird look. Eventually regaining her usual cool exterior.

"What, don't you like it?"  letting a hand brush over the hair that had  gotten considerably shorter since this morning.

"I passed by the barbers after we left Merrill's. I've  wanted something more practical for years  now. And it's pretty nice, right?.... _right."_

 

Hawke  began examining the tines on her dinner fork as if they would tell her the secrets of the world while poor Merrill moved around in her seat, looking highly uncomfortable, and tried her best to avert Aveline's angered stares.

"Excuse me sir- Oh! Aveline, jeez, I didn't recognize you"

Varric chuckled putting two, shiny, pitchers filled to the brim of  frothy new tapped ale, on the table. He sneaked a wink to Hawke and Merrill before sitting down beside Hawke. The guard captain rolled her eyes while sighing loudly at them all before getting seated next to Merrill that had just gotten color back to her face.

 "Whatever...I like it and it worked for the Divine's right hand. Besides, you have no idea how many times a small child can find joy from pulling your hair. " She stretched out, moaned, and leaned back, her arms folded over her chest, with utter confidence of the decision in her eyes.

The table was soon filled with aromatic delicacies, all of Hawke's favorites; pork stew, honey buns, Ferelden cheeses, blueberries, a few bottles of Kirkwall's finest 3:20 year, roasted chicken, meat skewers, potatoes and meat pies, amongst other things.

"Mhmm...could somebody  please pass me the...oh...what was those bread things called, again?" Merrill gestured towards a bowl filled with dough lumps swimming in a simmering broth along some pieces of  poultry meat and vegetables.

"Chicken and dumplings?" Aveline managed to mumble with a mouth full of meat pies, passing the bowl  over to the elf licking her lips expectantly.

"Varric, I have to say you really managed to pull of a great party at the last minute. But you must have spent a fortune on all this!"

Varric barely took notice of her. Just nodding slowly towards Aveline to answer, running his index finger in circles over the goblet's rim, his chin resting in his palm and eyes locked on the lady seated beside him.

She seemed happy, laughing along with the many silly anecdotes  Aveline was telling about Donnic and the baby, he'd heard them all already, Merrill's many discoveries from exploring Sundermount to learning culinary skills and recepies.

Daisy had come a long way. Of course she was still practicing blood magic, she was that kind of mage after all, and examining the unknown. Varric remembered her excitement to research the rifts when they first arrived and the numerous notes she sent to him at Skyhold on the red lyrium spikes while she was helping the elves in Kirkwall get ready for the worst.

Hawke's  face lit up a new and turned smiling towards his. That warm smile with a sudden twinkle in her eye that seemed so sudden you could almost miss it if you didn't know it to be there. He'd managed to catch it on a few occasions;

The first time they met, when she and Bethany had managed to scrape enough coin to accompany them on the expedition to the Deep Roads and when they meet near the gate at Skyhold. She had been through so much but he knew somewhere deep down she still had that little twinkle.

She slapped his shoulder playfully.

 

"Stop staring at me, dwarf!" Hawke playfully nudged him.

__

_You are so beautiful, Hawke, I wish you knew that about yourself._

 

A  loud bang behind them made them all jump in their seats and turn to face the door that had been torn of it's hinge as a large man in rags and leathers lied sprawled out and twitching on the floor in front of it.

Two leather clad feet belonging to a voluptuous, familiar, figure dressed in an admiral hat and coat with a shining silverite dagger sheathed on each hip, entered the tavern. She smirked, looking over at them and spoke to them in her usual sultry voice.

"I thought I'd find you all here - Hawke! So the rumors _are_ true, Missed me?"

Aveline growled in disgust of the sight firmly folding her arms across her chest.

"Whore"


	7. The Admiral and The Plot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[This Chapter contains a major spoiler from the Dark Horse comic "Until we Sleep". Read at your own risk.]]  
> *****************************************************************************************************************  
> Heya I'm back...major angst issues and trouble writing down anything later on here for a long while and I'm back.  
> Let's call it having been "creatively constipated" as I have a lot of ideas but they kind of pile on top of eachother.  
> And I want to deliver the best stuff to you that I can muster up :)

Hawke couldn't help being just a little tickled by Aveline's seemingly great dismay over Isabela's extravagant entrance just a few moments ago. The antivan beauty had dropped down on a seat beside her and was currently filling her in on the things she'd missed out on.

"And then we met the king... I mean I have met him before...But Alistair...really... Maker - the muscles on that man!...sad finding his father in that state though after all those years...  But I can't help being a little jealous of the queen...  Have I told you I met them in Amaranthine when I was just starting out?  Nearly had my way with them both then and there" laughing and rapidly emptying her second tankard of wine. "

Hawke rested her head against his shoulder enjoying the stories. Some had already been told to her by Varric. How they'd gone to look for king Cailan only to find a barely living corpse strapped up to be emptied of it's supposed dragon infused blood with magical powers. She would desperately have wanted to take it for a ghost story but she knew better, having seen the things she had, much to up close and personal not to believe it. 

_I love you. You've always made me so proud._

She could still hear her mother's final words echoing inside her mind. It felt fainter each time she thought of the bad that had happened. But not by much. She found it a blessing that her brain would let her rest from the memories now and then, already flooding her dreams every night. Father, Carver, losing Bethany to the Grey Wardens. Mother.

"Are you alright there, beautiful?" she heard him whisper allowing only her to hear him. He must have noticed her face change in expression, being the caring observant man he always seemed to be around her, a creditable trait with most writers. Nodding only slightly and shooting him a smile she again focused in on Isabela's storytelling. The admiral sat peering over the table and resting her eyes on each of them.

 

"So down to business...however fun we're having I didn't just seek you out to greet our fellow sister back to the marches...I have a business proposition."

Aveline rolled her eyes "You seem to be forgetting you're in the presence of a guard, Isabela...I assume the business is unethica..."

"IT'S THE HAIR! I knew there were something off about you this evening, it's..."

"Look you. The Seeker, short hair, Enchanter Vivienne...though a little pompous for my taste, short hair. Maker even Hawke used to have short hair once!"

Hawke just smiled and nodded not really wanting to be dragged into their annual quarrels.

"No...I like it!" 

Aveline's expression changed from annoyance to confusion in the blink of an eye "You like it?"

"You look very self-assured, strong, actually you sort of remind me of a female Qunari I once knew"

"I...I am not sure whether to get mad or say thank you"

Isabela cheekily smiled and winked at the guard captain. For the first time in a long time, Aveline was dumbfounded, her jaw clenched.

"Shut up, whore"

 

What followed was an awkward silence were Isabela kept casting cheeky smiles towards the red faced Aveline. Everyone else remained silent in their seat. Hawke was happy she seemed to have escaped the argument. Peering over the tabled she noticed Merrill fidgeting with a corner of her dress, an emerald colored piece, with leaf shaped details, decorated with tiny white pearls sewn onto as sleeves, in a shiny fabric.

Varric was the first one to finally speak .  "...You said something about business, Rivaini?" He leaned back in his chair with a dubious expression.

 

The admiral peered across the table at them resembling a child with a secret almost too good to share. Then she leaned in close as to make what she had to say only hearable to the intended party;

 

"I have through some... associates of mine learned there might be coming in a steady stream of... let's call them exotic wares into Kirkwall..."

"Slaves?"

"Aye...slaves...But not just slaves..."

"Magic slaves?"

"Magic slaves." she responded with an arched eyebrow.

"And you...got this from Fenris, right?"

"Yes, alright! Fenris mentioned it a while ago after we happened to... bump into each other. There's been reports of missing mages for the last couple of months. There's rumors of kidnappings...ever since Divine Victoria closed the circles." Isabela moaned falling back in her seat.

"It's no fun telling you things if you already know them, Varric"

He chuckled "Nightingale sent me a message to be on the lookout for something suspicious" he pulled out a cigar from inside his coat pocket and lit it on the lone candle standing proudly as a centerpiece on the table. He smiled, exhaling, his face enveloping into the smoky fog. Hawke was confident she had heard a hint of childlike glee in his voice.

"So, when do we start?"


End file.
